Silver Lake
by padfoot's prose
Summary: "Is this the last time you'll sit by this lake? A mouse, a wolf, a dog and a stag. Just sitting." A lot has changed since the Marauders first arrived at Hogwarts, and on their last night they go back to where it all began - the lake.


_A/N: I wrote this for Kitty East's '25 Challenge', because 'silver' seemed like such a great prompt and I couldn't believe it had no stories. She is a F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C writer. So scrap this, go read her stuff!_

_Disclaimer: None of it is mine. All the amazing creation of JKR's imagination._

* * *

The lake is silver tonight.

Shining, sparkling, glinting in the moonlight. The stars dance on its surface, twinkling in the sky and on the water. The moon – big, bright and full – shines down on us, just us four, as we sit by the lakes edge, just taking it in. Thinking, remembering. Maybe even trying to forget a bit as well. There are some things we all want to forget.

You can still remember your first trip across its silver surface. Those tiny boats – leaking, cold, and damp – pulling you slowly towards that far away castle. You remember arriving there, shivering in your crisp new robes, staring around just like everyone else. The awe was clear on their faces, but you tried to hide it. Awe and James Potter don't mix.

Too many hours were spent here, by the lakes edge, in that first year. Too much time was wasted, willing for work to be done but never doing it. Hoping for pranks to be pulled, but not bothering to pull them. Dreaming to make the Quidditch team, but never daring to try out your brand new broom. It's no secret that you were different back then. Maybe a bit of coward. You wanted to play it safe. Work out where those careful lines were, and how far past them people could dare to go.

In your second year, you were different. You were loud, cocky, mischievous, rude. You never had time to sit a wait; to stop for a minute and relax – daydream of living a different life, being a different boy. But twelve year-olds are like that. They never stop. They don't have time to stop.

The years speed by after that, punctuated by single moments, single sparkles in the deep black depths of the past. That time Lily pushed you in and you swore that you felt the tentacles of the giant squid brush against your legs. The day when you cursed Snivellus – _Snape_, you remind yourself – so badly that he spent a week in the hospital wing and you spent a month in detention with McGonagall. All those times when you'd sit and watch everyone else, knowing how jealous they were of your world, your life.

Your friends were there for those moments too, and many, many more. Transforming for the first time, Padfoot by your side, already the first to try it, Moony watching on, utterly silent. You remember the power you felt, as if that silver from the lake was pulsing through your veins, giving you its power, its glow. Running for the first time on four legs, racing a dog and wolf, a rat scurry up trees and through the grass to keep careful watch. Dancing on the grounds, your hooves so light and graceful that it could barely be called anything less than a dance.

And the waiting, the endless waiting. Waiting for Evans to look at you, just once, with something other than fury in her eyes. Waiting for Peter to finish his Charms exam, knowing that the result wouldn't be good, but that you had to be proud of him anyway. Waiting for Moony, during those increasingly rare times when he wasn't in control, when the monster got the better of him. _No, not a monster,_ you correct, _a problem_. All you have to do is look at Moony – his honest eyes, his steady jaw, his scruffy robes – and you know that there's no beats in him. There never has been and never could be.

Is this the last time you'll sit by this lake? A mouse, a wolf and dog a stag. Just sitting. Just thinking, remembering. Sometimes trying to forget.

A lot has changed since you first sat here. Your name, your face, your friends – the life you have chosen to live. But still, some things remain the same.

The lake is silver tonight. The stars dance on its surface – glittering, gleaming, twinkling. Your three best friends sit beside you, the love your life safely asleep at the top of Gryffindor tower. Evil stirs around the borders of the school, always trying to slip through its defences. Voldemort is out there, trying to get in here. And soon, far too soon, you'll be out there too, trying to fight him. You can't win, just the same as the silver stars could never overwhelm the still black water. But you can try. You can shine too. Even if it's just for a moment. Just for long enough to give someone else the hope it takes to shine as well.


End file.
